


Hehe, Bad Choices go brrrrrr

by SansThePacifist



Series: Greek Heroes Reincarnated | Grr Rawr [2]
Category: Greek Heroes Reincarnated | Grr Rawr, Original Work
Genre: Angst, Apparently grr rawr is a magical girl au now?, Attempted Murder, Blades, Blood, Enemies, Gen, I can not for the life of me think of any other tags, Panic Attack, Panicking, Questioning Authority, Reasonable anger, Violence, anyways it inspired this at like midnight, five days ago. I had it finished by then, im too tired to think of a good title lol, no beta read, our conversations go wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27486889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansThePacifist/pseuds/SansThePacifist
Summary: He wanted to be at home, he wanted to be sleeping, wanted to be anywhere but in front of the slowly rising woman. He wanted to hide, wanted to cry, wanted to scream at the gods loud enough to shake the skies.His hands were still steady.
Series: Greek Heroes Reincarnated | Grr Rawr [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885540
Kudos: 1





	Hehe, Bad Choices go brrrrrr

**Author's Note:**

> Keep in mind that when I wrote this I was pretty tired and I've been too tired to go through and edit. So like. Its probably pretty bad lol

There's a sickle in his hands, so very like the ones in his dreams (nightmares?) that he almost wanted to throw it away, to send it over a bridge or bury it where it could never return. 

Still, the gods had given him an order: kill Medusa's reincarnation, stop the evil before it could ever truly grow. She fought tooth and nail and he felt sicker with each second that passed. Finally, he managed to pin her down. He tightened his grip on the sickle and didn't throw it away. He wanted to, but he didn't.

She's staring at him. There's something sad, something understanding, in her gaze but all he could truly see was _accusation._ Heavy with its weight, his shoulders dropped ever so slightly. She was angry and, as he held the weapon to her neck, his hands felt sticky with phantom blood. 

She had every right to be angry. Who wouldn't be angry with him? He was going to kill her! If she wasn't angry, if she hadn't fought back... 

The blade didn't shake. He almost wished it had, wished it showed some of the anxiety he knew he held. 

There's blood on his hands. Is it his?

What was he even _doing?_

She was so angry with him, eyes staring into his soul, and all he could think was that she was right to be. If she was so right then why was he doing this? Why would the gods tell him to do this? 

...he didn't want to kill her.

He _really_ didn't want to kill her. 

Pasquale took the sickle away from her neck and looked away. 

He couldn't do it. He failed. What would they think of him now? Would they toss him away? Would they even listen to his reasoning? 

He couldn't breathe. 

He stood on shaky feet and wished his hands weren't steady, wished they would shake, wished they would grip the handle with inexperience, wished it would slip.

What was _wrong_ with him?

Why did he even try to follow through with such a request? Why did he ignore everyone's reasoning? _Why would the gods force him to face his nightmares?_

A step back. Another. 

He still couldn't breathe. 

He wanted to be at home, he wanted to be sleeping, wanted to be anywhere but in front of the slowly rising woman. He wanted to hide, wanted to cry, wanted to scream at the gods loud enough to shake the skies. 

His hands were still steady. 

Madelyn looked him in the eyes, the deep well of hatred in them making his knees finally collapse. He wasn't far enough, wasn't close enough, wasn't where he should be.

"The gods have lied to you." She said, hissed, whispered, yelled. It couldn't have been all, but it felt like it was. "And you fell for it each and every time."


End file.
